


Osiris' Dawning

by ZeroTheAngel



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21860092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroTheAngel/pseuds/ZeroTheAngel
Summary: A little piece on Osiris' first Dawning after Saint-14 was rescued from the Infinite Forest, because for some damn reason I can't give that grouchy warlock any cookies.
Relationships: Osiris/Saint-14 (Destiny)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 76





	Osiris' Dawning

**Author's Note:**

> Reading the lore entries from baking cookies for Eva made me all misty eyed and it encouraged me to write something about Osiris and Saint reuniting properly, and what better way than through gifting cookies and sadness. This mini fic can be construed as Osiris and Saint as a long lost couple or just close friends, I like both dynamics for them!

The whir of the Sundial was the one thing Osiris had come appreciate during his vigil by the device, awaiting the Guardian’s swift return. Every time he called upon them, they would come, and every time, they would prove his calculations wrong. He thought Panoptes would bring ruin to the system, and yet the Guardian stood victorious. He spent many years in solitude, searching for Saint XIV, so long that he had truly lost hope. And yet again, the Guardian proved him wrong. It was hard not to feel a hint of bitterness, to have to rely on an ally to save someone so dear. But he always pushed past those thoughts, because he knew that bitterness would get him nowhere. He had an exile of decades as proof of that. 

He looked out past the protective ward that encased the Sundial. Currently he was facing Mercury’s present, flanked by Mercury’s distant past and distant future. Even for him, it was rather nauseating to have time torn open, centred on where he stood. Sagira would argue that he should be used to it by now, that the Infinite Forest would have helped to inoculate him against the negative effects of time tearing itself apart. He would then argue that the Infinite Forest was never as chaotic as the Sundial, and he put much of that down to the Red Legion using the Sundial to tamper with time and getting trapped within. No doubt, Sagira would find yet another way to argue her point, and perhaps by the next decade, they would be ready to start a different argument. 

He was brought out of his thoughts on theoretical arguments by said Ghost. Sagira materialized out of the air in front of him as a figure approached the entrance to the ward. He would never be able to mistake the figure for anyone other than his oldest friend, both because he knew the armour so well that he could picture it just by closing his eyes, and also because he’d never met a Titan with such flashy tastes in armour. He had joked once that Saint should have been a Hunter, if not for his love of punching things. If he remembered correctly, he’d received a rather jovial punch on the shoulder for said joke, further proving his point. 

“I thought you were at the Tower, getting acclimatized to it all.” He caught himself before he allowed too much surprise to fill his voice, eyes peering out from under his hood. With his cowl up, it was all Saint could see of his face, and he did his best to keep his eyes neutral. Hard to do when your closest friend you had thought dead strides up to you as if only a year or so had passed, and not hundreds. 

“Ah, I was, its very… Loud.” Saint said, a happy chuckle resonating from his sleek silver helmet, and the noise immediately put Osiris at ease. “The Dawning is in full swing, and I was getting introduced to all the new faces and reacquainted with some familiar ones. Zavala has not changed a bit, nor Ikora.” Just mentioning Osiris’ former student was enough to bring a hint of a smile to his face, shrouded by the cowl of his infamous clothing. In the years since Panoptes fell, he had been in infrequent contact with the other Warlock. It was hard for him to keep in contact with Ikora, not just because she was a reminder of his exile, but because he knew that she still didn’t condone his actions, despite his successes. She would likely argue that success is far from the word she would use. He shook his head a little, refusing to get into yet another hypothetical argument in his head. 

“Loud has never driven you away before, what makes this any different?” Osiris quizzed, eyes studying the unyielding mask Saint wore without fail. He would never be able to scry any meaning from Saint’s helm, and on some occasions, he guessed that was why he always wore it. Saint’s heart was worn on his sleeve, he was so sincere that he had no need for an expression. Truthfully, he already knew that Saint was likely overwhelmed by all that had changed in the time he had been away, and despite his years in the Infinite Forest and the current crisis on Mercury, this place was likely a little less hectic than the Tower. 

“Well with the Dawning in full swing, I thought some time away would be best. And anyway, a nice woman named Eva asked me to bring a gift to one of your fans here on Mercury.” Osiris could feel himself bristle at the term ‘fan’. Vance, as he refused to describe the man with his chosen honorific of ‘brother’, was technically, by the very definition of the word, one of his fans. Back then, he never meant for those that agreed with his views on the Vex to devolve into some kind of cult, but the past was the past, and he could hardly use the Sundial to go and persuade a young Vance not to meet your heroes. 

“Well, you’re a ways off, the Lighthouse is over that way.” He gestured off vaguely, knowing that Saint knew exactly where the Lighthouse was, it was difficult to miss. Before he could turn his back and continue his brooding, Saint interjected, procuring a small curiously shaped box of treats, a steadfast tradition of the Dawning. He had never really been able to enjoy the Dawning when he was at the Tower, at least not truly, his mind was always stuck on something, be it the Vanguard or the Vex. He never knew to relax, seemed to recoil at the very thought of it. 

“I specifically asked for an extra box, I’d say you deserve them as much as your adoring fan does.” The teasing tone in Saint’s voice filled him with a nostalgia he’d long forgotten, and it took every fibre of his being not to crack a smile, not to chuckle alongside Saint like he used to. He had him back, but things weren’t the same, even if he wanted them to be. Not yet anyway. “Happy Dawning, Osiris. And thank you.” He crossed the distance, and without allowing Osiris to protest, handed him the oval-like box of food, then turned on his heel, and marched off towards the entrance to the Sundial, intending to make good on his promise to Eva Levante. 

“Wait!” Osiris was confused, realizing that it was not his voice that had called out for Saint, it was Sagira. He looked to her, his eyes betraying his confusion as to why she had made such an outburst. “Osiris has something he would like to say. And you are not leaving until he has said it.” The Ghost smoothly floated around to lay her single, glowing blue eye fixed on the old Warlock as if she were judging him. He thought perhaps, she probably was. 

“Sagira, I…“ Before Osiris could make good on his argument, the Ghost de-materialized before him, causing a scowl to cross his features. She truly was going to be the death of him, an irony which was not exactly lost on him. Saint hovered on the threshold of the Sundial and Mercury’s present, seeming equally surprised at Sagira’s outburst. 

“Well? Sagira says you have something to tell me?” There was a hint of amusement in the Titan’s voice, likely because Sagira had managed to elicit a reaction from Osiris. That hypothetical argument with Sagira had just been extended by an extra decade. He sighed a little and straightened up, squaring his shoulders as if he were ready to spar. Sagira knew everything about Osiris, his mannerisms and his actions were not indecipherable to her like they were to most, and his mind was something she could pick through rather easily, despite his hatred of the fact. 

“Sagira needs to learn to mind her own business.” Osiris announced, as if to taunt his now hidden Ghost. It would have likely garnered a singular eye roll from said Ghost, which wold have truthfully felt like enough of a victory. “But she is right, there is something I have to say.” He admitted, clearing his throat. There was a pause, that seemed to hang in the air. 

“Well? These rolls won’t deliver themselves Osiris, what is it?” Saint was clearly not as impatient as his words implied, he had stepped away from the entrance of the Sundial, and was now stood expectantly, watching the Warlock. He had an overwhelming urge to procure his Vex cubes, to toy with them as he spoke, something he often did to avoid eye contact. He ignored temptation and steeled himself. 

“I didn’t bring you back because I felt guilty, Saint.” He said, despite how roughly it came out in context, it was the truth. He could practically hear Sagira groan in despair. “Of course, I felt guilty that you were trapped in that place because of me, but that is not why I went to the lengths I did to get you back.” He explained it a little better the second time around, but even with his helmet on, he could tell Saint was a little more than confused by his words.

“Osiris, what are you talking about?” Saint broke through Osiris’ poorly thought out outburst. The Warlock was famed for overthinking and was often brandished a fanatical fool. He looks upon the aftermath of the Vex invasion to the Moon and quite happily would say that fanatic zeal is the least of his concerns. Osiris sighed, and his stance softened ever so slightly. 

“I beseeched the Guardian to find you, to bring you back, because I simply could not accept that you were gone. I refused, Saint, to allow you to be lost to the Forest because of me. You mean so much, to so many people, but none more than me. You have been, for the longest time, my only friend, the one I could turn to for anything. And I lost you, because I knew that the Vex would bring the end of all things. I am sorry you were caught up in my actions, my mistakes.” He stopped, if only to take a breath, knowing he couldn’t see a reaction to his barrage of words. “And I’m sorry I’ve let my war against the Vex bring a rift between us, between the Vanguard, but they don’t understand, they cannot see it as I can.”

As Osiris spoke, Saint took steps forward, slowly and one at a time, as if he were approaching a scared animal. In his eyes, Osiris likely seemed like a scared animal at this moment. Confronting his emotions and talking about anything but research or the Vex was something near foreign to the exiled Warlock, and he found it exceedingly difficult to muster up the effort to be sincere with things like this. 

“You mean more to me than anything Saint. I will not say more than this quest of mine, I’m sure you would disagree either way, but you know what I mean. We are Guardians, Saint, life is something we have a lot of, and I know that fighting an endless one-man war isn’t much of a life, but its mine. I just… I couldn’t continue with this life, knowing I’d robbed you of yours.” Osiris paused again, but this time because Saint was stood a mere few inches from the Warlock, looking down at him. After a moment, the Titan embraced him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable hug, Saint was wearing a full set of cold metal armour, but despite the prodding of sharp parts of Titan gear, it warmed Osiris’ heart. He would never admit that, of course, even when Sagira reminds him of this moment. 

“Happy Dawning, Osiris.” Saint reiterated, a smile radiating in his words, obscured by his steel visage. 

“Happy Dawning, Saint.” Osiris responded. The smile wasn’t so evident in the Warlock’s voice, and he was thankful that it was hidden behind his cowl and the Titan’s chest.


End file.
